


Hogvel

by neonsunrise (pointedragon)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Everyone Is A Wizard/Witch, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Quidditch, basically just MCU characters if they all went to Hogwarts, some plot but mostly just happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointedragon/pseuds/neonsunrise
Summary: MCU characters and their adventures at Hogwarts.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. The Boy on the Train

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Am I the first person to write a Harry Potter universe/MCU crossover? Yeah, probably not. I haven't checked. But I wrote it anyway, so you may as well read it. It's appreciated!
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful people Julie and Nirmal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter finds a seat in the Head Boy's compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

"Aunt May, you're squishing me again," Peter grumbled. His summer growth spurt meant he was almost taller than his aunt. It also meant he had to bend down a little to hug her, and that her tight embrace was borderline suffocating.

"Oh, give me a break," May fussed. "I'm not going to see you for a while." One of her hands fluttered around aimlessly for a moment before settling on Peter's cheek and smushing it further into her shoulder. A train whistle sounded. Over Aunt May's shoulder, the Hogwarts Express shuddered, and steam billowed onto the platform.

Peter wiggled a little in her grip, trying to escape, before sagging in surrender. "But it's only a few months, then you'll see me over Christmas!" he protested, voice muffled by the folds of Aunt May's sweater.

"A few months is a long time! You're only eleven!"

"But Aunt May – "

Peter felt her shake her head. "Uh-uh. Just let me hold you. Next time I see you you're gonna be taller than me."

Peter sighed and squeezed Aunt May back. She might just be the most obnoxiously protective woman in the world, but she was Peter's only family. Truth was, he was going to really miss her while he was at Hogwarts.

"Oh, it's almost eleven!" May pulled back and gripped Peter's shoulders. "Now, you've got everything?" Peter held up his luggage. "And you'll send me owls every day?"

"Every _day?_ But that's so many letters!" Peter whined.

"I'm sure you'll manage. Now, go, go, go! Get on the train!" Aunt May snuck a quick kiss onto Peter's cheek. "Love you!"

"I love you too, Aunt May." Peter tightened his grip on his trunk and gave his Aunt one last nervous smile before ducking into the crowd on the platform. He accidentally ran his trunk over someone's toes as he dodged between parents, causing an indignant yelp.

He emerged at the edge of the tracks just before the clock struck eleven. The Hogwarts Express shone with a fresh coat of crimson paint and stood wreathed in steam. Students leaned out of the windows, waving at family and calling out farewells. Peter leaped onto the steps just as the locomotive started moving, his trunk ka-clunking up off the platform.

The train picked up speed, and Peter glanced back once. He saw Aunt May pushing through the crowds, waving frantically.

The Hogwarts Express was en route.

***

Peter dragged his trunk all the way to the end of the train and back, trying to find a mostly empty compartment to settle down in. Everywhere was either full or had a couple intimidating-looking sixth or seventh years that seemed to be sending Peter away with their eyes.

Finally, almost at the very front of the train, Peter stopped outside a compartment with only one boy inside. The boy, who looked several years older than Peter, had his head tilted forward onto his chest and a hat covering his eyes, so Peter could only assume he was asleep. Peter looked back down the length of the packed carriage and took a deep breath before sliding open the sleeping student's compartment door and stepping inside.

He turned his back to the other boy for a brief moment to wrestle his trunk onto the overhead rack, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a jovial, "Who's this in my compartment?" from behind him. Peter turned slowly and sheepishly, face blooming red.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I should have asked before coming in, it's just that everywhere else was full so I- " Peter abruptly cut off when he saw the other boy's gentle smile and placating hands.

"Hey, it's fine, calm down, kid. You can sit here, it was just me all by my lonesome." The older boy leaned back in his seat, tucking his hands behind his head. Peter still stood frozen by the door, arms in the air from placing his luggage on the rack. "Sit down, sit down," the older boy urged. "My name's Tony, what's yours?"

Peter cautiously sat down across from Tony. He didn't let his guard down yet; Tony seemed nice, but he was definitely much older. Peter wondered if he was a prefect and that's how he got a whole compartment to himself. "I - I'm Peter," he stuttered out. "Peter Parker."

"Nice to meet you, Peter," Tony said, tilting his head to lean his temple against the glass of the window. The Hogwarts Express had picked up speed, and the verdant green of the English countryside flew past outside.

"You, too," Peter said shyly, and shook the hand offered to him.

Tony smiled at him - an open, honest smile. "So, you're a first-year then?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Was it that obvious...?"

The older boy tossed his head back in laughter. Rather than feel patronized, Peter felt a grin tug at the corner of his own mouth. He somehow knew Tony wasn't laughing _at_ him. "It's always obvious," Tony said. "All of you have the same excitement and wonder in your eyes. Makes me reminisce about my first time going to Hogwarts."

Peter plucked up the courage to ask, "What year are you?"

But before the older boy could respond, the compartment door slid open and a thin, red-headed girl with a crisp ponytail slid into the space. The newcomer walked straight up to Tony and swatted him on the shoulder playfully. "I should have known you would find some first-year to torment!" She turned to Peter and smiled in the same way Aunt May always did. Peter immediately liked her, and the feeling only grew when she extended a hand for him to shake and said, "Don't mind him, he thinks he's the best thing to happen to all of us. I'm Pepper Potts."

"Hey, sometimes I'm right," Tony complained, and lifted his arm. Pepper sat down right at his side and let the arm wrap around her shoulders.

"Yes, sometimes you are," Pepper admitted, leaning into him. "Now, what was your name, honey?" she asked Peter.

"Peter Parker," he responded.

"What an adorable name," Pepper said. Peter liked hers too: there was something so spiffy about the way she said _Pepper Potts,_ like she had everything in her life organized and perfect. She probably had an academic planner with a different colored marker for each class. Peter knew a girl like that at the muggle school he went to for elementary.

Tony looked at Pepper and gestured with the hand that was around her shoulders as he spoke. "This young man and I were just talking about how exciting it is to go to Hogwarts for the first time."

Pepper brightened. "I remember my first time at Hogwarts like it was yesterday! Tony here stole my wand right before Sorting. I only got it back because Rhodey shook him until he gave it back." She smiled fondly. "Speaking of, what House do you think you'll be Sorted into?" Her attention turned back to Peter.

Peter didn't know who Rhodey was, but he seemed nice. As for Peter's House... "I don't know," he admitted. "I like them all, except I heard that Slytherin is bad..."

"Oh, Tony's going to _love_ that," Pepper laughed, at the same time Tony sat forward and said, _"What_ did you say, young man?" Peter didn't know which one of them to look at, so he alternated, wide-eyed.

Tony broke a smile. "Relax, kid. _I'm_ a Slytherin. We're not evil masterminds, no matter what the history books tell you. Slytherin just means you have strong goals, and you reach them."

That didn't sound so bad, after all. "Are _you_ a Slytherin?" Peter asked Pepper.

The redheaded woman shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, that's not really my cup of tea. You think I could put up with this idiot if I had to share a common room with him?" She laughed when Tony pouted at her. "No, I'm a Ravenclaw. 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure,' and all of that. I bleed blue and bronze."

"What about you, kid?" Tony brought the conversation back to Peter. "Any particular house suit your fancy?"

"I don't know," Peter repeated, tugging at his shirt sleeves. A Ravenclaw and a Slytherin were sharing a compartment with him on the Hogwarts Express – it was suddenly hitting him that he was going to be Sorted very soon. After hearing stories about Hogwarts his whole life, he was finally going there. A tangle of nerves and excitement grew in his stomach. "My Aunt May is a Gryffindor," he supplied. "She always calls me her little Ravenclaw whenever I get an A on a test...but she also says she'll be proud of me no matter what house I get into."

"Oh, honey, she sounds so nice." Pepper smiled softly.

"She's a really powerful witch," Peter boasted. "She says if I work hard I can be even better than her someday."

Tony's lips twitched upwards at the corners. Something gleamed in his eyes: Peter thought it might be pride. "Listen to your aunt, kid, she might just be right."

**

Hours later, the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade. Tony gave Peter a shoulder pat and another handshake, then Pepper swooped in to hug him. "Anyone bothers you, you come to us, all right? We'll sort them out for you," Tony instructed.

"We'll be excited to see what house you're Sorted into," Pepper added. "If you get nervous, look for us in the crowd." Peter smiled as they filed off the train ahead of him.

Peter stumbled out onto the platform. It was dark, and steam from the train flooded the crowd of bustling students. He had trouble seeing around the tall upperclassmen, and he was momentarily disoriented by the chaos. Then he heard a deep shout: "First years! First years, this way!" He pushed through the crowds of chattering witches and wizards and headed towards the voice.

Aunt May had told him lots of stories about the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He had a weird, nerdy name from Norse mythology – Heimdall – and apparently, he was a total legend. Aunt May said he'd been teaching at Hogwarts longer than anyone else there. There were rumors he was the current owner of the Sorcerer's Stone, which he used to make himself the Elixir of Life. He was also an animagus – though nobody knew what he could transform into, since the records got stolen in a still-unresolved Ministry raid decades ago.

Peter's knees shook as he approached the end of the platform and nervously raised his gaze to catch his first glimpse of the groundskeeper. He was instantly awestruck: the guy was every bit as awesome as Aunt May's stories. Golden eyes stared broodingly out from a dark, ageless face. He wore dark robes edged with what looked like bronze, and a shiny ring of keys dangled from his belt. Heimdall towered over everyone on the platform.

Peter would've been intimidated, if it wasn't for the small smile on the groundskeeper's face as he gestured for the first years to come forward. Peter joined the throng of first years gathered about Heimdall. As he did so, he stepped on someone's foot. The girl next to him turned: "Hey, watch yourself!"

Peter, stricken, pulled back. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to step on you, I'm so sorry."

To his relief, the girl grinned. She had chocolate skin and her hair was braided elaborately on top of her head. "It's fine, I don't actually mind too much. I'm Shuri, by the way."

"Peter," Peter said. He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly and tried to think of something to say. "So what house do you want to get in?"

Shuri's face lit up. "Oh, I already know what house I'm going to get in," she said excitedly. "I know it, my mother knows it, even my idiot brother knows it. I'm going to be a Ravenclaw." She rolled her eyes as she said 'idiot brother.'

"How can you be so sure?" Peter asked, fascinated by her certainty and her bubbling energy.

"Oh, it's obvious. I hacked into my dad's computer when I was five."

Before Peter could question her further, the groundskeeper called for them to follow him. The first years walked a ways down a cobbled path, following the groundskeeper's bobbing wandlight, before piling into a small fleet of rowboats on a lake that looked blacker than night. Peter dipped his fingers into the water in fascination; they seemed to vanish before his eyes.

"I wouldn't do that," Shuri advised, watching him. "The mermaids might bite your fingers off."

"Mermaids?" In all of Aunt May's stories, Peter had never heard of mermaids living in the Black Lake.

Shuri nodded. "Oh yes. Someday I'm going to meet one."

Peter believed her.

As they approached Hogwarts, Peter's jaw dropped. The castle was far more beautiful in person than in pictures or paintings. Not even Aunt May's collection of moving photographs did it justice. While he stared, Shuri laughed next to him. "Close your mouth, or you'll catch mosquitos," she advised. Mouth firmly closed, Peter continued gawking at the impressive structure. The nearer their boat drew, the more nervous and excited he got. He was anxious to explore the inside of the castle, but the thought of standing in front of the entire school while he got sorted turned his knees to jelly. As such, he had trouble clambering out of the boat.

Shuri helped him; she called him "useless," but she also seemed to be stuck to his side. Peter figured she needed a friend just as much as he did.

As they approached the doors of the Great Hall, Peter confessed that he was nervous and told Shuri that his new friends Tony and Pepper had said to look for them in the crowd. For some reason, this made Shuri do a double take.

"Was it Tony _Stark,_ perhaps?" she whispered furiously. "My brother told me stories about him! Peter, did you really get to share a compartment with _Tony Stark?_ Oh my, that is so cool! Did you know that he's – " But whatever he was, Peter didn't get to hear it, because right then the doors to the Great Hall swung open and one of the professors led them down the aisle to be Sorted.

True to his word, Peter swept the four long tables with his gaze, hoping to spot Tony or Pepper. He found Pepper first; the redheaded Ravenclaw smiled at him and pointed him out to the girl next to her, who gave him an encouraging wave. Tony was harder to spot, and Peter couldn't find him before the first years made it to the front of the hall.

Silence fell. Peter swallowed nervously. Next to him, Shuri bumped his shoulder and mouthed, _Are you ready?_ Peter pulled a face in answer.

Everything after that was kind of a blur. The Sorting Hat sang before anyone could be Sorted, then a professor started calling out the first years name by name. Shuri went before him. The Sorting Hat didn't even touch her head before calling out "RAVENCLAW!" and sending the girl, with a blinding smile, off to join her new housemates.

Finally, after what seemed like an eon: "Peter Parker!" Peter crossed to the stool on shaky legs and almost fell onto it. In that second before the hat dropped onto his head, his wandering eyes briefly met Tony's. The older Slytherin gave him a nod, and Peter steeled himself. _I can do this._

The Sorting Hat landed on his head, and Peter could hear its thoughts. _Ah, he's a smart one...and has the heart of a warrior. Lots of love here, too – your Aunt is very important to you._ Peter blushed. _A hard worker...well, I've decided._ "HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat shouted to the hall. The students at one of the tables burst into cheer, and Peter, grinning, raced towards them and found a seat on a bench. Now that the spotlight was off of him, giddiness bubbled to the surface – he was _here,_ at Hogwarts, after years of dreaming! He wanted to write Aunt May right away and tell her everything that had happened so far.

"Congrats, Hufflepuff!" an older boy near him said, clapping him on the back. Peter beamed. A moment later, he spotted Shuri waving at him from the Ravenclaw table and waved back.

He was too excited to really pay attention during Headmaster Fury's remarks, but the feast afterwards was delicious. The boy sitting next to him, whose name was Ned, never ran out of funny remarks about the teachers and kept Peter laughing for hours.

That night, laying in his new four-poster bed in the room he shared with the other Hufflepuff first-year boys, Peter fell asleep with a smile on his face. Tony, Pepper, Shuri, Ned – all the Hufflepuffs he'd met so far – everyone was so kind and so _magical._ And this was only day one.


	2. The Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new chaser on the opposing quidditch team captures Bucky's interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks Julie and Nirmal for the beta! Mwah <3

There was nothing quite like the first Quidditch practice of the season. Bucky inhaled the cool breeze gusting across the quidditch pitch and grinned up at the hoops. A bleak rain drizzled from the sky, dampening his quidditch robes. Naturally, it had been nice all week but was gloomy and overcast the one day the team opted to practice. Some things never changed.

“Hey, loser!” Bucky turned at the familiar voice and smirked as his best friend and partner in crime, Sam Wilson, approached. Sam was the kind of guy nobody expected to be in Hufflepuff; he worked hard to stay in shape and on top of his classes, like a Slytherin, and he definitely had the quick wit of a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw. Bucky figured Sam fit in with the Hufflepuffs because he had his head on straight and his heart in the right place. Sam was a moral compass with legs and a heavy dosage of fun.

“Jerk,” Bucky responded, and the two slapped hands – the ones that weren’t holding their brooms. “You ready to get back up there?” He nodded at the sky.

“Who you kidding? I’ve been practicing _all_ summer,” Sam boasted, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow jokingly.

“Oh you have, huh?” Bucky crossed his own arms.

Sam chuckled. “Naw, you know me, I don’t practice for shit.” They laughed together. Another gust swept the pitch, and Bucky tugged the sleeves of his pullover down to cover his hands; he regretted not bringing gloves.

Someone nearby cleared their throat, and the two stood at attention along with the rest of the team. Team captain and sixth-year seeker Clint Barton faced the lineup, one foot propped up on the battered chest containing the quaffle, bludgers, and snitch. Clint was a no-nonsense, straight-laced leader, but underneath his hard shell he was the biggest softie of them all. Bucky couldn’t name a time he hadn’t trusted the man completely. Under his leadership last year, Hufflepuff had won the Quidditch Cup.

“Alright everyone. Have a good summer?” Clint asked. A couple of the chasers nodded. They looked cold. “Okay, so, drill today is just gonna be nice and easy. We’ve got the same team as last year, and I know you all can fly. Oh, one more thing – Gryffindor tried to book the pitch the same time as us, so they’ll be practicing on the other half when they show up. Try not to show off too much.” The team groaned, and Clint’s eyes gleamed as the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Okay, up in the air!”

Everyone mounted their brooms. The chasers all took off right away, but before Bucky could leave the ground, Clint said, “Barnes, hold up a second.” Sam shot him a glance before taking off, the keeper hot on his tail.

Bucky watched the team zip off into the sky, weaving and laughing, before dropping his gaze to meet the team captain’s. “What’s going on, Coach?”

“I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, but I’ve got something for you,” Clint said. “Come here for a minute.” He started off towards the dressing rooms at the edge of the pitch. Bucky took a deep breath and followed, clutching his broom in one hand. He had an idea where this was going, and he wasn’t a huge fan. He followed Clint into the dressing room and watched him rummage behind one of the benches before retrieving a long, wrapped package. The captain handed it to Bucky without a word.

Bucky clutched the gift. The wooden rod beneath the paper was clearly a broom handle. He eyed Clint suspiciously. “Barton, I can’t take something like this, it’s too expensive.”

“Unwrap it,” Clint ordered.

Bucky stared at him for a second before leaning his own broom against the wall and starting to unwrap this new one. The thing was, Bucky was long overdue for a new broom; his current one was shabby and cheap. It’d been handed down through many wizards’ hands before it reached Bucky’s.

The year Bucky found out he was a wizard was the same year his parents died, and before he knew it everything Bucky was supposed to inherit was rushed off to a fund until he was old enough to claim it. At the same time, Bucky himself was put up in an orphanage, broken and grieving the two people that had mattered most to him. He’d kept to himself at the orphanage – in fact, he was often found in his room, curled up next to the wall with tears in his eyes. He still remembered the strange knot of hope that formed in his chest the day an owl swooped in through the window and dropped a letter on his lap. He took out a loan at Gringotts to purchase the cheapest robes and books he could find, and – of course – a wand. The broom was an afterthought, and it showed; the model hadn’t been on sale for several years, and Bucky didn’t remember paying more than a few knuts for it.

Since that first desperate year, Bucky had taken to staying with Sam for most of the summer. He commuted by floo powder to Diagon Alley, where he worked in one of the sweets shops to pay off his debt. He purchased better robes and books and paid Sam’s family for their kindness in housing him. But buying a new broom felt like too much of waste when he already had one. A bad one, but a broom nonetheless.

Now, Clint was handing him a new one. When the last of the paper was torn away, Bucky stared in stunned silence at the handle of the broom. It was the latest Nimbus model. “I can’t take this,” he said, looking up. “How much did you spend…?” He shook his head. “Look, I can’t let you spend this much money on me. I don’t need it.”

Clint smiled softly and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Barnes, I know you’re not a charity case. It’s not from me, it’s from Happy. Believe me, I told him you wouldn’t like it. He can be real stubborn though. He insisted. And I wasn’t about to turn down the Head of Hufflepuff House when he was offering something to help out my team.”

“But I – this is – ” Bucky shook his head. “It’s too much, I can’t accept it.”

Clint looked down at him from under his brow. “You _can_ take the broom, and you will. This isn’t a question.”

Bucky knew better than to cross Clint twice, so he sighed and gave a mock salute. “You’re the boss. Remind me to thank Happy next time I see him. And…” He sighed and spoke reluctantly. “Thank _you_.”

“No problem. Now get up there! The team’s waiting.” Clint grinned and clapped him on the back.

*

They’d been practicing for about fifteen minutes when Sam found a moment and pulled up next to Bucky in the air. “Sweet ride ya got there.” He nodded at the new Nimbus.

“Yeah, thanks.” Bucky swung his bat at an approaching bludger, but Sam beat him to it with a well-timed _thwack_ that sent the black ball hurtling towards their keeper.

“You don’t look too thrilled,” Sam observed.

Bucky sighed. “I’m tired of people spending money on me when they don’t have to. I can get by on my own.”

Sam nodded. He never knew what to say when Bucky got like this; the man could be inconsolable at times. Before he could think of something, a flash of red at the other end of the pitch caught his eye. “Well, would you look at that,” he said gleefully, maneuvering his broom around his friend to get a better look. At the far side of the pitch, seven scarlet-robed witches and wizards were filing onto the field, brooms clutched in hand.

“Gryffindor,” Bucky said.

“Looks like they got some fresh meat,” Sam noticed, chuckling gleefully. “Yeah, what is that…” He squinted. “A new chaser?”

Bucky lost some altitude to get a better look. The broom dropped quickly, and he nearly fell off, unused to such a sensitive ride. The new Gryffindor chaser was tall and thin, with dark blond hair, and he looked mildly familiar. “I feel like I’ve seen him around,” he called back to Sam.

Just then, Clint streaked past them, slowing only to yell, “I thought I brought you guys on the team to be _beaters,_ not gossips!”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Bucky muttered, and tore his eyes away from the new Gryffindor chaser to follow Sam back towards their team. The one bludger they’d let out was terrorizing two of their chasers, who screeched and rolled as the black comet hurtled towards them. Sam shot forward on his broom and hit the thing high into the sky. Bucky followed the ball’s arc with his gaze. At the top, instead of coming back down, the bludger jerked to the side and then picked up speed, heading for the other end of the pitch. The unsuspecting Gryffindor team was still on the ground, chatting.

“If you make an enemy out of another team before the season even starts, you’re off the roster!” Clint yelled from where he hovered by the hoops. “I swear to god, if that thing takes off one of their heads – ” The rest of the threat was cut off by a gust of wind.

Bucky shared a glance with Sam. “Don’t look at me, you got the faster broom,” Sam shrugged, gesturing with his head towards the out-of-control bludger. Bucky glared at him and spurred his broom onwards. He nearly lost his grip on the sleek wooden handle as the Nimbus accelerated at a rate he would’ve thought was impossible. He became a blur, his bat clutched in his free hand as he made to intercept the bludger just above the Gryffindor team. He was seconds away – he started the swing – _thwack!_ His bat slammed into the bludger, sending it back to the Hufflepuff side. His momentum, though, threw him off balance, and with a yell he turned downwards and plowed into the midst of the Gryffindor team. He could feel his cheeks flaming with embarrassment as he scrambled to disentangle himself from the teammate he’d landed on top of and both of their brooms.

When he’d managed to get into a sitting position, he glanced up and found the Gryffindor quidditch captain looking down at him with crossed arms. Valkyrie was the toughest chaser in the school, and right then her eyes were sparkling with her trademark smugness. Thankfully, she also looked amused. Thor, standing next to her, was bent double with laughter. “My gods, you should see the look on your face!” the tall beater chortled. “I haven’t had this much fun at practice in _ages!”_ Valkyrie backhanded him for that one.

Bucky was quickly distracted by the player sitting next to him – the one he’d plowed over. It was the new Gryffindor chaser. Up close, the guy was striking: straight nose, tanned skin, dirty blonde hair. His eyes were a kind of steel-blue that radiated intelligence. Bucky had definitely seen him in the corridors before, but he’d never really thought about what house he was in. He’d assumed Slytherin because the guy was always hanging around the Slytherin seeker.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” the guy quipped, and Bucky snapped out of it. With some effort, he looked away from the guy’s eyes and offered him a hand. They stood up together. When standing, they were eye to eye.

“Sorry, I just don’t remember seeing you on the pitch before,” Bucky threw in, playing off his staring.

“He’s a new recruit,” Valkyrie grunted. She wore a closed-off expression, as if she imagined Bucky was spying on them to help out the Hufflepuff team.

The guy held out a hand this time. “Steven Rogers. Everyone calls me Steve, though. This is my first year on the team.”

“Bucky,” Bucky said as they shook – once, twice, three times. Their hands lingered for a millisecond before they dropped.

“That your first name?” Steve asked. “It’s a little…unconventional.”

Bucky rarely told people his full middle name, or talked about his name in general, but he found himself saying, “No, it’s part of my middle name. My first name’s James.”

“I see.”

Valkyrie cut in, “Are you two done yet? I’d like to get practice started this millennium.”

Bucky grinned when Steve rolled his eyes. He retrieved his broom and mounted. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Steve,” he said, giving a salute as he rose into the sky.

“I guess so.” Steve followed his progress with those grey-blue eyes.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t fall off his broom again as he sped away, pulse racing.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a looooot of half-finished chapters written for this, so there will be updates. I won't promise a schedule, but they'll get posted. Eventually.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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